𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕆𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 ¦ 𝔽𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕪𝕤 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕞

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑

☽ - Eight Decades Ago - ☾

The young girl groaned when she stretched, A mighty act that cracked her spine and burned the muscles in her limbs, her back arching from the thin floor bed. The thread-bare blanket clung to her thighs, beneath the little protection it provided.

Isleen had been bedridden in the servants quarters for days now, a pounding in her head being as persistent as a cat chasing a mouse. The mist of the ache had withered into a dull throb. Perhaps today shall be the day she finally goes back to serving her Lord. Gods above only knew how he hated his... lack of treatment and general quick service of everything he deemed necessary in his life.

Isleen had been lucky that her Lord had taken two new girls in, they kept him busy enough for the last few days. Allowing her sufficient time to rest up and nurse her ailment.

The musty air was strife in the room, She could see the dusty particles dancing in the small beam of sunlight that flowed through the overhead crack in the roof, with no more then a bed and bucket in the room she had no such things like personal belongings, those niceties had been taken from her the day she was sold to the Lords of Vallen.

Since then, much had changed, she couldn't even bare to look herself in the mirror any more, every time she wandered past one in the halls upstairs Isleen couldn't help but notice the hideous work the Lords had done to her, to hide her Fae heritage. Long gone were the points to her ears, the edges trimmed down to make them appear more human like. They now looked much like the edges of a candle when the wax had been melted away by the lick of a flame.

Getting herself out of bed, Isleen moved quickly to prepare for the day, not that it took her long to do so, Brushing out her hair with her fingers, and fixing the little clothing she had to her body, and thus; she was ready for the day.

Despite it being around mid day in Vallen, Isleen was confused to not hear some buzz of noise through the halls of the servants quarter, the usual almost permanents whispers had ceased. 

The whole of Vallen was quiet. . .

Until it wasn't.

The screaming started like a riot thrown into a chaos of a blood bath, Isleen sped up to the end of the walk way, nudging the side door open she was almost entirely pushed out the way as people; Lord and their ladies, Scattered, like rats trying to find escape.

The pack of frenzied bodies, almost swept her away with them but Isleen just managed to grip her small hands into a nook in the door, a handhold for which to hook her fingers into. Once the group had skittered off Isleen seemed to be the only one left standing, she thought as much until she rose back, bracing her hand to the door for support.

There in the courtyard on the stone knelt the seven Lords of Vallen. Lord Lazarus, the Oldest and most influential of the seven lords, was knelt in front of the others. Isleen served him personally on occasion, 

She always found there was an odd sort of power to him, he was not Fae nor' any other creature from this world, Isleen and the other girls often joked that he was some ancient god from another world, despite being incredibly old, Lord Lazarus still captivated many with his ethereal looks. 

Often when she was serving him from his study, Isleen allowed her eyes to wander just long enough to notice the odd book titles, many not of any language from this world. A weird model in the corner of his office always drew her attention, she never dare ask. Her fear of the old male always made her become tight-lipped, the air around her robbing her of all thought and breath.

But seeing him now, Isleen began to worry for what exactly was making him kneel. Willing up the gut to look fully around the corner, and into the courtyard, Isleen could see the figure of a girl no older then late teens standing before the Lords, Blood smeared the azure blue dress she wore, the veil like sleeves almost completely covered in the substance.

Isleen's stomach flipped inside itself, the girls golden hair was pinned back and she bore no weapons beyond that of her own bare hands, which too, were blood soaked. 

The silence began again, not the kind where you could hear the silent side of nature or a pin drop, but rather the silence where even death itself held its breath.

Lord Lazarus cried out, his body rigid, and unmoving almost as if he hadn't made a sound at all, yet he screamed out once more the pitch higher this time. Isleen flinched; she had never seen such a child like side to the Lord, her skin prickled when she leaned closer, there was power in the air, like a bubble around the courtyard. 

Isleen couldn't quite place the exact feeling around the yard, the bubble made her inside feel . . . weird, like they weren't part of her, her skin felt like a mask, and she could feel her own bones, in fact the more she leaned closer, the more she could feel everything  in her body. Pulling herself back Isleen could finally breathe again without feeing every particle in the air flowing into her lungs.

The girl didn't move when Lazarus screamed out again, still a statue. The other Lords were nothing more then cases positioned in the girl's wake.

Isleen was pressed tight to the wall now, watching on while holding her breath, fearful the girl would somehow discover her for simply drawing a breath.

Lord Lazarus finally moved, Isleen's eyes widened when he began violently coughing, falling forward he caught his weight on one palms, from her distance away she could hear him begging. For what she couldn't hear, but the Girl in blue took a step forward,

She whispered something to the Lord, Isleen couldn't help but want to know what she was saying, but then the girl rose sharply, whatever Lazarus said back to her clearly wasn't what she wanted to hear.

The golden haired girl began to shake her head, backing a few paces, Isleen could just see the glimmer of a single tear roll down the ball of her cheek. 

Isleen leaned an inch closer, and the air around her changed the instant the girl brought a hand up, brushing the tear away with one finger. Like the air had turned foul, Isleen could have sworn something was ripping through her insides, the pounding that had her bed ridden for the past week returned, and it would have sent her wandering back to her quarters had there not been movement from the courtyard.

This time, it was the girls chance to become the statue, and Isleen wished in those moments that she had instead gone back to her room, as all six other of the Lord's began to twitch and twist in the weirdest of ways, the bones in one of their arms folded until the arm severed at the elbow, dropping onto the ground beside him, he coughed up blood when he tried to wail.

 Another Lord screamed out as his neck snapped, Lazarus was coughing but kept staring at the girl, who watched with a placid expression, there was nothing behind her eyes, nothing but emotionless darkness that could bring creatures of the night to their knees. An unbridled wildness of rage seemed to boil from her very skin, yet   she   just  wasn't   moving. Despite her eyes screaming a million unsaid words. Of hatred and Rage. A heart severed into a million pieces.

Isleen's eyes widened when the seven lord all dropped at the same moment, like the life switch inside of them had simply been flicked. Lazarus included, not even a fight from him as he dropped limp. The oxygen lodged inside her throat, 

The golden haired girl raised her chin, taking a deep breath she eyed the bodies around her, then she drew in a deep breath and screamed, her body arched as she threw her whole weight and force behind that scream, the magic intwined with her essence; sent Isleen's bones rattling, her skull vibrating against itself. 

An air of hysteria overtook the golden haired girl, she screamed at Lazarus's lifeless body, 

The bubble of power around the courtyard seemed to expand, Isleen was on its edge now, her heart hammered into her chest.

Pushing with both hands against the stone wall she began to back away, her feet felt as though they were suddenly made of lead, the border of the bubble grew, following her ever step, the thundering grows louder for every second the girl continued to scream at the circle of dead Lords.

Isleen spun to run from the edge of the girls power, but there was no escaping it now.

The world slipped away from around her the moments she fell behind the line, as she succumbed to the thundering and her body collapsed to the ground Isleen could just make out the sound of thousands of voices screaming out around the city as they too, were consumed .